


Waiting

by WitchyBee



Series: Snapshots of the Past [3]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBee/pseuds/WitchyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all the waiting that she couldn’t stand. Amanda waited for hours, sitting near the phone in case she got a call from the hospital or, God forbid, the police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I keep being inspired to write Amanda/Michael fics and Ron-centric fics. Really not what I expected to happen. But here is another story set before Michael faked his death; Amanda waits for him to return from a heist.

It was all the waiting that she couldn’t stand. Amanda waited for hours, sitting near the phone in case she got a call from the hospital or, God forbid, the police. 

She thought about that last kiss; it had felt like goodbye even though Michael promised he would come home to her, just as he always did. Then he headed toward the van idling outside. Amanda recognized a few of Michael’s...business associates. Trevor Philips was there, of course, looking positively thrilled to be robbing another bank. Although Michael tried to hide it, she knew he felt the same way, but she couldn’t begin to understand why. 

Exhaustion overcame her at some point, and she fell into an uneasy sleep. Luckily, it wasn’t the dreaded phone call that woke her at half past five in the morning, but Michael’s voice saying her name.

“Amanda? I’m home, baby.”

He was standing over her, a gloved hand on her shoulder. Amanda sat up straight, threw both arms around his neck, and pulled him close. She could feel Michael’s heart still pounding in his chest. He smelled of sweat and cigar smoke. Michael had recently quit smoking cigarettes in favor of cigars. It was one of those things he picked up from watching so many old movies.

They broke apart after a while and he left to pour himself a glass of celebratory whiskey. She knew he’d sleep like the dead for about twelve hours now. Amanda noticed the duffel bag filled with stolen cash. The money would buy them a big house one day, Michael often said, and they could have a nice life somewhere far away from here.

Amanda wondered again what compelled him to do this. It wasn’t all about the money, not entirely. Michael needed it: that rush of adrenaline, a gun in his hand, and his heart racing. He loved that insane, chaotic life. Amanda could tell when Michael Townley loved something. She saw it in his eyes every time he looked at her.

He didn’t want to give up either one.

Despite his promises, she feared things might go bad one day. He might not come home. Amanda had already lost enough people in her life.

“So, how’d it go? And don’t lie to me just because you think it’s what I wanna hear.”

“It was great.” Michael smiled. “Really, no problems. Everybody got out. It all went according to plan. No casualties. We might have to move pretty soon, though, until the heat dies down.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

He sighed. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

“Yeah, well, I take off my clothes in front of men and sometimes fuck them for money. You rob banks. We’re not perfect. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is all totally screwed up, but we make it work.”

“I love you, Mandy.” There was a certain gentleness in Michael’s tone and demeanor that was always most prominent after he’d been running with those crazy bastards all night. The longer he stayed at home, the more restless and agitated he became, and sooner or later Amanda would find herself waiting again.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
